


Foxface

by MarchWritings



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 74th Hunger Games, Book/Movie 1: The Hunger Games, Hunger Games, Hunger Games Tributes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarchWritings/pseuds/MarchWritings
Summary: The 74th Hunger Games from Finch's (Foxface) POV. Her father, sister, little brother and girlfriend are just some of her loved ones she has to leave behind. But she's clever. Maybe too clever for the games to defeat her.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind the uncreative title, I didn't find a good one yet 🤩. Foxface has always been one of my absolute favorite tributes and characters in general, even tho we got so little information about her. I wrote this in 2013 and recently found it again, so I decided to rewrite it and publish it because why not. Hope you like it (: 
> 
> P.S.: English isn't my first language, so if you notice any errors, just keep reading 👉🏻👈🏻

It is unusually hot for June when I get up to prepare breakfast for the family. I think about opening the windows, but it probably wouldn’t help to cool down, as the sun is already high up. I stand in the kitchen, undecided what I want to prepare. I don’t think any of us is very hungry on this day. My dad, who normally works as a maintenance technician and isn't home much. My older sister, who just graduated from school and managed to get a small job as an engineer trainee. Then there is my 13-year old brother, who everyone constantly worried about, since he had never really spoken a word. The capitol doesn't seem to care, or at least they never did anything about him not going to school. Maybe that is for the best. He is lovely and I’m sure deep down he is actually really smart. I like to show him the stuff I learn at school, to talk to him about my day and he always puts a smile on his face when I do.  
I decide it would be best to eat as much as we could get down, so it would sate us for the day. Well, or until the evening. Once the reaping was over everyone, except for the 2 unlucky chosen tributes, would go home and try to go on with life. Most of the District relieved and happy it’s not them or one of their kids or someone they love, a handful probably feeling too sick to do anything else for the next days. District 5 didn’t have a lot of children to choose from. In fact, our district was one of the ones with the lowest percentages of children. I never understood why you’d have children anyway in a world like this and position like ours. Most of us in District 5 were luckier than other Districts, District 11 or 12 for example, because we provided the energy for the capitol. And technically, for the other districts as well, but I doubt people in 11 or 12 will get to enjoy the products of our work a lot. But because we were so important to the Capitol, indispensable even, I guess they were interested in keeping us in a rather good condition. Our family lives in a small house which was inherited by my mother. She ran away a few years after my brother was born. And as far as I’m concerned, running away from a District equals with being dead. No one really knew her reasons and it was something people wouldn’t shut up about for a long time after it happened, but eventually the rumors died down. I was too young to understand back then, but maybe that was a good thing. I learnt to live without her and grew up with my father trying to be there for us as much as he could. Though at the beginning, he had more time for us. But then the Capitol raised his workhours and he was out the house for most of the day. Especially in the colder months, it was hard to deal with. With the sun rising so late and going down so early, we didn’t have much family time. But my brother would always listen to my stories I brought home from school and I adapted myself to the situation. As I was putting down a basket of bread and little buns, my sister enters the kitchen. “Morning”, she mumbles. “Morning”, I say and try to sound confident. I know that she had a friend who was still 18 and had signed up for tesserae. It was a simple trick by the Capitol: if you sign up, you get a ration of grains and other supplies you rely on, in exchange they put your name more often in the glass ball they choose the tributes from at each reaping. For each tesserae, your name gets added one more time. Luckily, we never had to do that. We didn’t have much, but it was enough. “It’s not going to be be her, Ava”, I tell my sister. “And neither one of us”, I quickly add. She smiles at me and nods. “Shall I get dad and Ruben?”, she asks, and I glance around the table. A basic, but filling breakfast, so I approve of her idea.  
When we were all sitting at the table nobody dares to start a conversation. My dad is worried it would be Ruben or me. I don’t want to think about it. The chances are slim, but they aren’t zero either. If Ruben’s name would be the one on the little piece of paper that they drew from the glass ball, I wouldn’t even have a chance to protect him. You’re allowed to volunteer for the originally chosen tribute, as long as you’re between the age of 12-18. But since I couldn’t represent the male tribute, I would be helpless. The thought of Ruben being chosen makes me sick and I shake my head at the thought of it, as if I could get it out by doing so. Nobody hardly volunteers anyway. Unless you’re from District 1,2 or 4. That’s where they train their kids for the Games, even though it’s technically not allowed, and where it’s a huge honor to represent your district. For the rest of us, it’s a death sentence in most cases. “The breakfast is fabulous”, praised my dad. “So…what are we going to eat for dinner?”, he asks. “I don’t know”, I quickly asnwer, before my sister could make any worried comment on it. “I would love one of your specialties”. My dad wasn’t much of a cook, but he was excellent at baking pizza. I’m not sure where he found all the ingredients, because you certainly couldn’t get that much of a variety of spices on the local markets. We grew some vegetables in our garden and I sometimes accompanied my dad when he was going out for a walk to find some eatable plants nearby. “Yeah, I’d love that”, my sister agrees. “Fine”, dad says and puts a smile on his face. The whole district dragged the event that was about to occur on the square. Obviously, they couldn’t fit all of the District in, but they certainly made sure everybody would be watching the reaping. Since we live close to the square, we were expected to view it directly from there.  
I comb my hair and put on a rather elegant navy dress. When I look into the mirror, I am not sure if I see myself. I’m not very fond of dresses, unlike my sister. But if I am being honest, I kind of like what I see. The navy color works well with my red hair and green eyes. My sister knocks on my door to check if I was ready. She looks beautiful. Her brown hair was put up into a bun and the yellow dress fit her perfectly. “You look amazing”, I say. “Thanks. You too, little sister”, she says and smiles, as my brother sneaks in behind her. He wears a grey shirt and dark jeans. I’ve never seen him so formal before and it seems wrong. “Look at you! You look like you’re already in dad’s business”, I say to him. I’m not sure if he understood what was going to happen. We had told him, obviously, but you never knew how much got through. He laughs at me, his green eyes being full of cheerfulness. It can’t be him; I think. It just can’t.


	2. Chapter 2

On the square we get separated. Everyone whose name was in one of the glass balls had to stand in the front, sorted into age groups. I wish I had been able to go over to my girlfriend before we got here, but there was no time. Because she was a year older, she stands several rows behind me. I try to find her in the crowd but don’t succeed. The heat is awful, and my head starts to ache. I just want it to be over. After a time, in which the mayor welcoms everyone and introduces the escort for District 5, Brinley Fernsby, a woman from the capitol who usually couldn’t wait to get the spotlights on her and welcome her new tributes, the mentor for the tributes, a former winner of the Games who would accompany the tributes each year until they entered the arena. For District 5 that was Porter Tripp, a woman who was probably in her 50s by now. She won the 38th Games, so she had to do this ungrateful job for years by now. After that he reads the Treaty of the Treason, a yearly reminder why the Capitol acted the way it did. It seems to go on forever and I almost forget that I had to fear for my loved ones and me.   
“Well… I think it’s time to select this year’s tributes!”, Brinley warbles. Really, you can’t describe it as speaking. Capitol people always seemed to talk in a high pitched and unnatural voice, and it was absolutely ridiculous. Why would you act that way?   
The lady moves to the glass ball with the female names in it. “Ladies first”, she warbles and puts her hand in the lottery. I hold my breath. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I know I did, because as she is reading the name, I almost choke. 

“Finch Mitchell!”.

Her voice echoes in my head. This can’t be real. It can’t be me. It’s a bad dream. I just need to wake up. I swallow hard and don’t move an inch. I recognize people moving around me, people looking at me and whispering. “Finch Mitchell!”, she repeats, a bit concerned her show might be ruined. I start to walk towards the stage, try to make it look confident and don’t look back. I can’t hear and I feel dizzy. Was it the heat? Was I in shock? Maybe I was about to die from a heart attack, I think, as the woman grabs my hand. “Wonderful!”, she warbles. “Wonderful! And now to the boys!”. I don’t recognize the boy’s name, someone called Elijah Anderson. I stare at my feet, because I am sure I would pass out if I’d look at the crowd. “Congratulations to our new tributes!”, the woman squeals. She makes us shake hands and I take a quick look at him. He is smaller than me, has dark hair and eyes and I can’t tell if he is in shock or not.   
The next thing I realize is that somebody makes me sit down in a room and tells me to wait for family and friends to come in. Of course. After each reaping family and friends from the unlucky children got to say their goodbyes. They only gave us a few minutes, but at least it was something. I don’t dare to stand up, because I still feel like passing out. The room looks empty, it only has a few chairs and a sofa in it, at the other side of it I can see a shelf with books on it. The door opens and I feel my sister hugging me tight. I look up and see the tears in her eyes. My dad and brother join her and sit down in front of me. “You’re smart Finch”, my sister says. She is trying to hold herself together, but I know she is one step away from breaking down. “I am”, I say with a shaky voice. My dad takes my face in his hands. “You know so much. You can learn even more. I know there’s a chance for you, you just have to grab it”, he says. I don’t know what to say. What are you supposed to say when you just got signed up for your certain death? I am smart. But I have no experience with weapons and unfortunately the Hunger Games were all about brutality and not solving quizzes.   
I just shake my head and we all go in for a group hug. “I love you all”, I say. “So much. I will – “, I got cut off by the man who opens the door again. “Time’s up”, he says in an almost bored voice. I panic. “I love you. Never forget that. See you soon”, my dad says, and I hear the shake in his voice. “Yes. See you soon Finch”, my sister says. I think she also went into shock, because her voice sounds more confident than before. We all know, that the chances of my return are extremely low. Basically zero. But I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think of anything.   
Someone new enters the room and I see my girlfriend, Olivia. She hugs me and doesn’t let go. “I’m so sorry”, she cries. “I’m sorry”, she is sobbing into my hair and I am unable to respond. She stops hugging me and looks me in the eyes. I blink to try and hold the tears back, but it doesn’t really work. I put my arms around her and kiss her. We don’t say much, we both understand each other without words. Olivia and I had become girlfriends about a year ago. We had the same classes and hung out a lot, and one day, as we were hiking through the bit of nature our district provided, she stopped and kissed me. I was perplexed for a short time but deep down I knew she had just made the first step I had been afraid to do.   
“I love you”, I say. “I love you so much. You know I will try, alright”, I tell her. “I love you too Finch”, she responds and rests her head against mine. Then the door opens again, and the man separates me from the person I thought would be my future.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the times regarding when they arrive to the capitol a bit, since I assume District 5 tributes arrive earlier than others, since they are closer to the Capitol (thus, them spending the first night in the capitol and not on the train).

It is early evening when we arrive in our apartments in the Capitol. Each tribute is given their own room for the days until we enter the arena. Additional to that, every district has their own floor which is shared with the mentors and several people who would take care of our rooms and ourselves. I assume they are Avox which makes me feel sick again. I knew the Capitol was cruel, after all they don’t seem to care that they kill 23 children each year for their own amusement and thousands more who were starving in the districts. But I never saw it with my own eyes, right in front of me. Our living space includes some kind of living room, in which me and Elijah sit on the sofa. Elijah is still quiet, which I approve, because I don’t want to talk either to be honest. We only talked very little on the train, when our mentor said hello to us and asked us if we were okay. Pretty dumb question if you ask me, but I guess she just didn’t know what else to say. I wouldn’t know better myself. He told me that he was 18 years old, which made him 2 years older than me. For some reason I felt extra sorry for him, being reaped on his last reaping he had to be a part of. We both went to the same school, but since we were in different classes, that wasn’t really something you could start a conversation about. Not once did we mention our families or loved ones; I don’t think any sane human being would be able to talk about such a topic right now.   
“Let’s see what happened today around the country”, an annoying voice behind me says. I turn my head and see Brinley Fernsby walk towards us. Even the names of the people are ridiculous, I think and scoot over so she could sit down. I am not really fond of the idea to watch the summary of reaping day, but I guess it is good to see beforehand who I would face in the next days.   
I try to remember names, but my mind is still in a blur. District 1 and 2 is represented by 2 happy and proud looking Careers, which doesn’t surprise me. They look healthy and as if they had waited for that moment their whole life which is probably true. The District 1 girl’s name is Glimmer, which amuses me. District 11 hits me hard. The boy, a big and strong looking guy, probably 18 as well, named Tresh and – a 12-year old girl. She looks so pure and lovely my heart hurts when she climbed the stage. I could see the shock in Elijah’s and Porter’s eyes, Brinley seems unimpressed and I wonder if the Capitol people don’t have a heart. When they cut to District 12, we see that a young girl is being chosen. She is, the two show hosts tell us, 12-years old. But what shocks me even more, is when her sister volunteers for her. This never happened before. Of course not, because being a tribute from the non-Career districts equals death in most cases. I feel the atmosphere in the room changing. Katniss Everdeen, the volunteer, climbs the stairs to the stage and the escort lady smiles at her. She is probably enjoying all the attention she would be getting when she came back to the Capitol, I bet she was upset when she got employed as District 12’s escort. The boy, Peeta Mellark, is chosen, then they cut back to the show hosts, who wish us good luck and tell us to enjoy our time in the Capitol. 

The next day is full of makeup and making us look flawless from head to toe. I hate the whole procedure, try to block out the dumb comments my prep team makes and eventually make it through hours of ripping my body hair out and having weird peelings scrub everything away that might be seen as unattractive in the Capitol. Tonight, they are going to host the Tribute Parade, which is a ceremony to present us to the Capitol and of course, potential sponsors. My stylist shows me my outfit for the parade, it is supposed to represent the tribute’s district, and it could be worse if I’m honest. It’s basically a very glittery and shiny dress, with a weird hat. I look ridiculous, no doubt, but it’s better than being half naked. I meet Elijah at our chariot, and he smiles for the first time. “Interesting outfit”, he says, and I laugh. “You too”, I point at him. He wears a suit made of the same material as my dress and the same ridiculous hat. It looks more like a neck brace to be honest and join him on the chariot. “Ready for the show?”, Elijah asks me, and I nod. It’s weird to talk to him, since we’re potential enemies. But I’m glad he said something and to know that he thinks similar about this situation.   
When the chariots begin to move, I look straight ahead. We are supposed to wave but I’m suddenly really scared I might fall. The horses that carry the chariots are moving in one long line, they must be trained pretty good. But still, the chariot shakes with every step they make, and I’m not used to those ridiculous shoes. I put on a shy smile and wave with one hand to both sides. It’s ridiculous. When we are almost at the end of the parade, where the chariots will line up and wait for President Snow to welcome us all, I hear the crowd go wild. I don’t know what happened, but I don’t want to look back because I’m sure it wouldn’t end well for me. When we finally stop, I turn my head. And I see the most spectacular costumes any tribute has ever worn before. District 12 is coal mining, and usually the tributes are humiliated during the parade, I’ve always felt furious about it. But this year, they must have gotten a new team of stylists. Because Katniss’s and Peeta’s costumes aren’t some tacky looking ones, that represent coal. They are literally on fire. It has to be fake, but it looks incredibly real. I’m so stunned, I almost forget that I’m in the middle of all of this and not some cheering audience member. And another thing is remarkable. They’re holding hands. It’s ironic, because of course only one can win the games. But it has an incredible effect on the audience. 

When I lie in bed this night, I think about home. The promised dinner definitely wasn’t happening. I try to imagine what my family would be doing right now, but it is too sad, so I get up and wander around the room. I have no idea about weapons. I never fought, I was never interested in any kind of weapons and I am terrified of my future days. I try to think positive, tell myself I am smarter than most of the tributes and that people won by using their brain before. The mentor of 12 for example, Haymitch Abernathy, won by making the force field which surrounded the arena to his weapon. It happened before that tributes pretend to be innocent and no danger, just to turn out to be actual killers. But I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t want to meet those people. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but it eventually happened. When I wake up, it takes me a few seconds to realize where I am and what had happened. I get up and take a shower, put my hair into a simple braid and get dressed. In the dining area of our apartment, everyone seems to be waiting for me. Brinley’s face lights up and I smile at her. There is no point in acting annoyed or mean with those people. I sit down and look at Elijah. “Did you get some sleep?”, I ask, and he nods. I couldn’t blame him for being so quiet and absent, but for some reason it annoys me. “So today you two will be going down for your first training session”, Porter says, and I could hear the sorrow in her voice. “I would recommend not showing off your best skills down there, not when the other tributes are with you”, she goes on. “Try to learn new skills that could be helpful, plants, traps, some weapon, working out. Could be useful”. “Thanks”, I say and think about what my best skill might be. Sure, I am smart. But how exactly would that be helpful in an arena full of trained killers? I know a lot about plants though, but I also know that the gamemakers would have a lot of fun to invent a ton of new plants that don’t exist in the districts to trick us. I think about Elijah. What is his special skill? I don’t want to ask him, because if I was being honest, I want to keep my knowledge about my skills to myself, as awful as it sounds. I have to think for my own good from now on and make myself a priority. 

When Elijah and I go down to the training center, most of the other tributes are already there. I feel my chest tighten as I realize, that those people are my potential killers. Or that I am theirs. We get introduced to the training and are told that we can choose any station we want to try out. There are stations with weapons of all kinds, survival skills training such as making a fire, camouflaging, plants or stations where you could train climbing.   
I decide to take a look at the people first, before deciding on a specific station. Elijah walks towards a station which teaches you how to throw spears, followed by the boy from District 1. He is probably the same height as Elijah but looks much stronger. Of course, people in District 1 train their whole lives for the Games. I can’t remember his name and don’t bother to try remembering it, so I turn to the other side. The girl from 1 or 2, I am not sure, throws knives at several mannequins, which are lined up meters away. She doesn’t miss the spot where the heart would be in real life a single time. I decide to keep distance from her and walk to the other side of the room where I spot an abandoned station that features a huge display. I pass by a station about knots, where the girl from 12 listens carefully to the instructor of the station. She has my full respect. I’m sure Katniss Everdeen is going to be a favorite this year. It doesn’t matter if she’s actually good. But the Capitol people will love the drama that surrounds her and her sister.   
I arrive at my chosen station and the instructor tells me it’s about plants and matching them with their names. I recognize some of them and think whether it’s clever to train at this station or not but decide it doesn’t matter because it’s so empty around here. Besides, it might save my life.   
The next few days consist of briefly talking about training and the big interview that is about to come up, actual training and nightmares I have to fight. On the last day of training we are supposed to show our best skills to the gamemakers. They will rate us, and the scores are being broadcasted in the evening. I don’t really care about my score if I’m being honest. I assume it can be helpful to get a low score, because the others wouldn’t see me as someone they have to look out for. I show them what I learned at the plant station, climb a fake tree and make some knots I learned.   
When we gather in front of the TV to see the results, I’m nervous. I don’t know why, but I want to be better than Elijah. My own thought scares me and I concentrate on the screen, where we see that the careers have got their usual high scores. When District 5 comes up, I hold my breath. Elijah gets a 4. Porter congratulates him and he seems happy about it. If the careers would see us, they would laugh about it. 4 out of 12 is low, but for most districts it’s a good result. I see my face on the screen and receive a 5. I’m surprised about myself and can’t believe the plants and climbing impressed the gamemakers to some point. Tresh from 11 gets a 10 and I’m not even surprised by it, since he looks so strong and tall. Rue, the girl from 11, receives a 7, which impresses me. She must be really clever or fast, to make such an impression on the gamemakers. Peeta Mellark receives am 8, which is some kind of surprise, because District 12 often gets the worst results. I think about what he could be good at and decide it is probably strength as well. Katniss Everdeen gets a 11. Which is, I’m sure, a new record. Not even the careers scored that high and she’s from 12. I don’t know what she’s so good at, but it’s certainly more than making knots. I like her, and I’m sure we’d be friends if circumstances were different. During training, she only talked with the boy from her own district and was rather inconspicuous. But the circumstances are not going to change and that’s why I try not to think about how those tributes might be like personally anymore.


End file.
